Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Armenia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Maurizio to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Sam Rivers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Banda Bassotti,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Don Cherry,
Circle Jerks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Christie,
David Bowie,
Zero Boys,
The Busters,
Sex Pistols,
the Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cecil Taylor,
Amazonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Tim Buckley,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
Juan Atkins,
Main Source,
Sight & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
The Techniques,
The Sonics,
The Martian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skarface,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dead Boys,
Das Ding,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare,
Charles Mingus,
Pulsallama,
Kurtis Blow,
Carl Craig,
Monolake,
The Modern Lovers,
Section 25,
Second Layer,
The J.B.'s,
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
Unwound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Procol Harum,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Camouflage,
Susan Cadogan,
The New Christs,
Alton Ellis,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Frankie Knuckles,
Godley & Creme,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.